


A God's Execution.

by sour_petrichor



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Also an anvil, Angst, Character Death, Dave | Technoblade-centric, Dramatazation of the events, Dream To The Rescue, Gen, Public Execution, Ranboo is just ranboo, Techno is just goated, Tschlatt refrence, Violence, Voices in head, character study sorta, i dont know what im doing, theres a horse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28155576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sour_petrichor/pseuds/sour_petrichor
Summary: Technoblade stood in New L’manberg with his head held high, despite losing all of his belongings, his horse being held captive, and mocked while he stood in front of his own wanted poster he never lowered his head once to the Butchers, and he never will as long as he is alive, which by the look of his surroundings won't be much longer.
Relationships: n/a
Comments: 12
Kudos: 225





	A God's Execution.

Technoblade stood in New L’manberg with his head held high, despite losing all of his belongings, his horse being held captive, and mocked while he stood in front of his own wanted poster he never lowered his head once to the Butchers, and he never will as long as he is alive, which by the look of his surroundings won't be much longer.

An odd group they were, the Butchers, the leader he presumed to be Quackity, he donned a bloody apron which was clear to him to be only for style and aesthetic. He would compare the way he handled his weapon no better than a toddler. He never got the satisfaction of killing him when he stood outside his house, a shame really he let him get to Carl, he regrets not hiding his prized horse.

Next in the ranks of the Butchers was his nephew, Fundy, son to Wilbur, or Ghostbur as he’s better known now. He wished he could be surprised by the fact that he was there, after all, he was family. But he was an orphan and likely felt threatened by just the thought of Techno being alive, even if miles away in the tundra. Fundy posed no more threat than Quackity in his eyes, when he saw him standing outside his door with the others he forgot his family ties with him and saw him as just another body to bloody the snow. His cries of how strong Techno hit and aid from his allies never seemed to reach the hybrids’ ears as he chopped him down with his sword. He doesn’t regret chopping him down like he was a stranger.

The third member of the Butchers was one he was not familiar with, Ranboo. He heard his name in passing as he was escorted to the triall. Tall, yet not intimidating. He had more gear than the rest of the Butchers combined but he seemed reluctant to fight, he noticed he was the one to pick up his armor when he surrendered it for Carl’s safety. If, or when he leaves this trial he’ll have to confront him for it back. He regrets letting his items go so quickly and just watching as the Butchers scavenged his things resembling vultures at a carcass. 

The final member of their gang was none other than Tubbo himself, Mr. President of New L’manberg. There was something about him that day he saw him with his diamond ax in the snow. It could have been the way the child president stood out amongst the rest, the glint in his eye when Techno surrendered his belongings. Or maybe it was the horns he could have sworn had started to peak out of his hair, history always repeats itself after all. It’s a shame he didn’t lose a canon life out there in the cold when he struck Tubbo down, maybe if he just kept hacking away at the child’s body he could’ve done it.

Now he stood upon the raised platform being ushered into a cage by the four of them, he was afraid. Not for himself, but for his friend, his father, Philza, and he regretted not heeding his fathers’ warnings that swearing away violence would never work in this world. Technoblade had caught a glance of him in his house watching out his window at the scene before him, he saw the fear in his eyes. It finally clicked in him once he was forced into the humiliating cage on the raised platform what was really happening, this was no Trial.

This was an execution.

“Technoblade,” Quackitys sharp words pulled him from his head. “I want you to look up.” He obeyed. “You see that up there Technoblade? Once I hit this lever that anvil will drop down and kill you. It’ll fucking KILL YOU!”  
“An execution.” The young president echoed in a proud tone.

Yet the Blood God didn’t flinch, nor react in any way. He just surveyed the area before closing his eyes. His head began to ache with the shouts of the voices. Demanding and ordering him to break free and slay all of them where they stand. To end this era of L’manberg and cause anarchy and chaos. Much to their dismay, he stayed still. He didn’t react, he didn’t even speak, he just watched as Tubbo went on to explain what was happening. The voices were enraged with words and demands he couldn’t even utter himself for others might see him as more of a monster than he already is. He stayed silent.

“Technoblade has robbed our country, robbed it of everything that makes it it’s own!” The child began, glancing at the piglin hybrid in the cage, then back to the people he led. This was ironic in a way, Techno being framed as the villain in their story, the person to blame for all their troubles. But here he was, telling his master plan like a villain who had captured the hero. In a way that’s what this was. 

“He has caused nothing but chaos! And...and-?” The president cut off as a whirl of foam and water hit the stage and Punz stood in its midst. Without hesitation, he threw an array of potions into the crowd. Shouts and screams of terror flew up as he pulled out his gleaming netherite sword and hit it against Ranboo’s own who stood up to defend against the attacker, the clang of the metal ringing throughout the area. 

Metal against metal, the breaking of glass, and screams of terror filled Techno’s ears as he watched the fight go down. His head began to pound with the sound of the voices in his hand. Chanting and cheering for Punz and demanding that he break free and do something in this discord and chaos. He looked to the left and saw Ghostbur his sheep, and Phil standing and watching in horror as he was put on display and humiliated like this. He looked to the left and saw Quackity racing for the leaver, he could hardly make out him screaming that he was going to pull it in the cacophony of the battle, the pounding in his head, and the screaming from the crowd. He yelled;  
"I'M GOING TO PULL THE FUCKING LEVER-"

With enough force to rip it off the wall, he yanked it down and he saw the lights flicker up and activate the mechanism that teetered above him menacingly. 

For the first time in a long, long time he felt a pang of fear in his heart as he looked up and watched the anvil plummet through the air and fall towards him. He had no time to react, no time to call out to his father or brother he saw watching, no time to think, no time to save himself or even brace for impact.

There were blinding flashes of green and white light and sizzling, an awful noise that made him cover his ears with his hands. After that settled down there was a beat of silence, then another, and another, before all hell broke loose once he opened his eyes and looked up. The voices in his head screaming in harmony and sync of ‘Blood for the blood god’ and ‘Techno never dies’. His father’s cheering and laughter and the people surrounding him chanting phrases;

“How did he do that?”

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

“How the FUCK is he not dead?” 

“GET HIM- HE’S RUNNING AWAY!”

The voices all blurred together as background noise as he climbed skillfully over the iron bars surrounding him and he took off down the raised platforms of New L’manberg, following a blur of purple and green he saw duck behind a corner with Carl. 

Adrenaline fueled the hybrids’ race for freedom as he followed the strangers lead down a mysterious tunnel, one he had never seen before, but he caught a glimpse of the sign before running in.

The final control room.

The smiley-faced masked man shoved the lead to Carl in his hands before running off down the hallway, leaving Technoblade standing there in a short moment of dazed confusion. He regained enough of his senses to flip open the chest and find a netherite pickaxe, iron armor, and an enchanted golden apple. He admired the shiny fruit for a moment before racing to put on the iron armor and turning around to grab Carl to leave down the hall. What he saw startled him for half a second.

Quackity stood in the doorway, the light casting an eerie light on the Butcher captain, new bloodstains were splattered across his apron, ax, and armor. He did not know if it was his or another but he had no need or want to find out. A crazed look was in his eye, he was out for blood. He could make an easy assumption it was his he was out for.

“What the fuck is this Techno....what the hell are you doing here.” He spat out his name like it was poison, readjusting his grip on the bloodied diamond ax he held in his hands. 

Techno was quiet for a moment while he tried to think of a response, but his brain felt foggy, like permanent white noise. The voices started to get aggressive and began to shout commands and orders at him. It was harder and harder to block them out to try and focus on what Quackity was saying. 

“It’s not what it-” The anarchist was cut off by Quackity snapping out; “How the FUCK did that anvil not kill you.” 

The blood god adjusted his grip on the pickaxe, it was his only weapon at the moment. That, the god apple, his iron armor, and a few small potions tucked away in his cape. He tried to think of a peaceful resolution to this, he was on his pacifist arc after all. But the voices chanted louder and louder, the white noise made his head so fucked he couldn’t think of anything else but the voices. Kill, Blood for the blood god, revenge, revenge, revenge. 

He gave in.

Weeks and weeks of progress in trying to subdue the voices and resist the urges thrown away in an instant, all the work he had done to show himself as the good guy and the peaceful Antarctic anarchist was thrown away. His eyes dilated to slits as he glared into Quackitys soul, he was hyper-aware of every movement his enemy made now. His only goal was kill, he stood his ground, so Techno took a step forward, finally responding.

“Do you really think you could kill me that easily Quackity?” He taunted with a chuckle, flipping the pickaxe in his hand by the handle. The Blood God was back. Techno watched his opponent’s face intently for any fear, any at all. Only a few weeks prior he would tremble at the very mention of Techno’s name, now here he was standing off against the Blood God, the Orphan Obliterator, the pig that never dies.

“Do you think death can stop me? I’m the Blood God, nothing can stop me.” He pointed the pickaxe towards him now, he could see the slight tremble in his fingers as he held the ax in a sloppy and defensive stance.

“I tried to convince you, to convince everybody that a government was not the answer to your problems. I fought alongside you then you cast me aside to make the very thing I swore to take down, you used me.” His tone filled with hatred, ending in a growl alluding to his piglin nature. 

Quackity stood strong, so Techno continued. 

“When I went into hiding when I retired when I swore off violence. You hunted me down, you hurt my friends.” He gestured to Quackity with the pickaxe, watching him flinch at the weapon. That little action made him grin sadistically and the voices chant louder to strike him down where he stood.

“You don’t understand Technoblade, you’re on the hitlist, what we’re trying to make out there is a country and you pose a threat to that by just being alive.” He paused to take a few steps closer, the two not far apart now, within striking distance. “And I don’t care how long it takes me, or what I have to do, but I’m going to fucking kill you.” He spoke with the most certainty in his voice than the hybrid had ever heard. It would’ve made him shudder if his mind wasn’t so fogged up, the only things he could comprehend was the voices and his instincts to kill those who have harmed him and his family. 

“I just have one question Quackity,” He held his head up high and stared at him through slitted eyes. “Do you think you’re enough to kill me? Even unarmed with only iron armor?” He shifted and felt his hooves dig into the ground below. 

“Let’s fucking find out you son of a bi-” before he could even finish Techno had sprinted past him and swung his pickaxe into the wall, pulling down a part of it and putting a barrier in between the two to stall. He smashed all the potions he had at his feet and spun to face his enemy that was hacking through the barrier, ax raised high above his head and ready to strike. The voices chanted and cheered him on as he raised his own pickaxe, ready to defend himself. 

As Quackity charged forward and swung his ax, the Blood God dove to the left and hit the back of his knees with the pickaxe, forcing him to trip and stumble. Techno had a crazed look in his eye as he went to swing again, but the diamond ax swung back and hit him in the shoulder, all it did was dent the iron. It pierced no skin, he couldn’t be stopped.

Technoblade swung and hacked at Quackity, driving him backward at a furious pace he couldn’t keep up with, he was wild, and soon, Quackity fell backward and hit the ground, losing grip of his ax and it sliding away about a foot or so. Without hesitation, Techno stomped on the handle and cracked it under his hooves, rendering it useless. The Blood God slowly turned his head to look at his enemy on the ground who was on his back, trying to shuffle away. 

He took a step forward and stomped his hoof square on Quackity’s chest, pinning him to the ground and causing the other to break into a coughing fit from the sudden pressure on his lungs.

“I’M GOING TO STICK THIS PICKAXE RIGHT BETWEEN YOUR TEETH--”

Techno snarled before raising it up and smashing it down with a sickening crunch, followed by another, and another, taking a precious canon life from Quackity. 

Then, it was quiet, only the voices quieting down with quiet cheers of victory and revenge playing in his head and his labored breathes. He stepped off the body slowly, glancing around and seeing blood splatter the walls and ground, none of which was his. But he knew Quackity would be back, he would be back time and time again until his final life was taken.

Without another spoken word he walked back to carl and grabbed his lead, the two walking off down the tunnel. As they walked in silence he thought about how much of a fool he was believing he could really turn away violence.

He was a monster, and this only assured that part of him. But he had been right from the beginning in one aspect;

The only universal language is violence.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first fic so criticism would be much appreciated but keep in mind it's still my first. I'll probably do more in the future I did enjoy writing this.


End file.
